I'm Here
by ShortGirlWithAPen
Summary: Carol finds the burn scar on Daryl's hand and asks about it. Rated T for mentions of self-harm and death. Slightly more than implied Caryl, but you can read it as friendship if you'd like.


**Disclaimer- I don't own the Walking Dead or any of its characters!**

 **A/N: This contains mentions of self-harm, so it may be triggering.**

* * *

In Alexandria, there were people everywhere. Each person who had been here for even a short while had a job to do, and people in the Atlanta group were beginning to get their own; everyone except for Daryl, that is.

Daryl always hated being forced to have nothing to do. It gave him too much time to think, too much time to possibly be vulnerable enough to get hurt, and that's why he had always kept himself busy doing something while they were on the road, as it had been drilled into his brain from a young age that doing nothing would only cause hurt, would only make things worse. Now, however, he didn't think things could get any worse. Beth was gone, when it was his responsibility to take care of her and to make sure that she made it back to the group.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice Carol walking up to the house, stopping when she saw Daryl sitting on the porch with his crossbow beside him. He only glanced in her direction when she sat by him.

"You should go out and meet some of them." Carol suggests quietly, not knowing if he would actually agree to it. He had never been the most social of the group and it was a wonder that he had gotten so close to her. "I know that we may not be able to stay here long, but there are some good people here."

"Rather wait 'til I know what I'm supposed ta do." Daryl mumbles, looking away from her. "I don't wanna be that one person in the whole town that doesn't know what they're supposed ta do."

"What's goin' on, Daryl?" Carol asks, placing a hand on his arm, noticing the way that he tenses slightly at the touch. She sighs, taking her hand away from his arm, only speaking again when he doesn't talk for a few moments. "I don't think not having something to do is all that's bothering you. Care telling me what it is?"

Daryl sighs as he looks out at the street, at the people that walked down it, heading home. He didn't see anyone in their own group and slowly looked back at Carol, not saying a word. He was trying to stay positive, trying to convince himself that this would work out and they could stay here and be safe. He tried to make it show in his eyes, but he just couldn't. All that reflected at the moment was the sadness that seemed to overwhelm him, the doubt and guilt of everything that had happened over the past few months that seemed to constantly wash over him.

Slowly, Carol takes Daryl's hand in her own. She noticed how rough and calloused they were, as if they were an extension of himself, the roughness that everyone saw when they first met him, but they didn't know what was past it and what he was really like. Carol was mildly surprised when he didn't pull his hand away from hers and instead ran his thumb over her knuckles. Still, even though it was a surprise to her, she was pleased. A year before- even simply three months before- this kind of affection wouldn't come from him.

Carol looked at his hand, inspecting it closely, almost immediately seeing a raised scar on his hand the size of a cigarette that looked fairly new, and it was suddenly like they were the only two people in the world. She ran her thumb over it, careful not to put too much pressure on it just in case it hadn't completely healed yet. Carol then looked up at him, trying to meet his eyes but he had looked away from her before she could do so.

"Daryl?" Carol asks, reaching up with her free hand to touch the side of his face. Daryl closes his eyes tightly, not wanting to meet her eyes, moving his face slightly to where she couldn't touch him as easily. "Daryl, please tell me. Did you do this?" Daryl nods slightly, his hands trembling as he reaches for her hand, the one that didn't have his own. "Why?"

"Because I was supposed to look after her and I didn't do it good enough, so now she's dead." Daryl's voice was barely a whisper but Carol could still hear every word he said. "Because it all got too much and I wanted something other than the hurt." Daryl pulls away from Carol completely, as if not wanting her to be touching him anymore than she was. He then opens his eyes and meets hers. "Guess you think I'm weak, don't you?"

"No, never." Carol meets his eyes, fierceness in her eyes. "Daryl, I will never think you're weak; you are the strongest person I know. If it wasn't for you, every one of us would be dead. You have kept us fed and protected for the most part the whole time you've been with us, and I know that's not always easy or fair for you. No weak person could do that." Carol takes a moment to move around so she's in front of him and looking at him face to face, and runs her hand through Daryl's hair. He doesn't pull away from her, which makes her smile slightly, knowing that he's finally accepting her affection. "No weak person would be able to survive this long with the dead walking. You did everything you could, Daryl. You tried to find her and you did. You tried to save her, along with me, at the hospital but things don't always work out like they should. I'm so sorry, but they don't. I'm sure we all wanted her to live and be happy, you're not alone in that, I promise you. You're never alone."

Daryl nods and leans his head on her shoulder. She wraps an arm around his waist, still keeping a hand in his hair. "It still hurts and it keeps coming at the most random times, when I'm not doing anything. Beth was like my sister, Carol, and I let her go when I should've made sure she was still with us." Daryl's eyes close as he snakes his arms around her. "How do I get it to stop?"

"I don't know the answer to that, Daryl. But I can tell you that if you keep moving forward, if you keep yourself busy while not letting yourself forget her, it will get better. Trust me." Carol says, sighing sadly. What he was telling her made her heart break for him; she knew he cared about Beth along with everyone else in the group, but he wouldn't let himself accept what had happened to Beth for the longest time, but hearing him tell her how much Beth dying was affecting him had hurt her in ways she couldn't imagine. Daryl pulled himself away from her once again, looking into her eyes. Carol could tell that he wasn't even bothering to hide what he was feeling. "I care about you, and so does everyone else. I know I'm always willing to listen if you think it needs to come to you talking to someone."

"Well I'd rather it be you than anyone else, a'right? So I- I am glad you're willing." Daryl says quietly, his voice rough. Carol nods and hugs him tightly, laying her head on his chest and listening to his heart beat. A small smile forms on her face and for the first time in a long time, a smile is on Daryl's face as he hugs Carol just as tightly, keeping her closer than she had ever been.

That's how the rest of the group finds them, arms around each other, Daryl looking more relaxed than he had been since the dead started walking and Carol asleep against his chest. Rick knelt next to the pair and placed a gentle hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl simply looked over at Rick, smiling almost guiltily when he realized that they had been caught.

"The two of you should probably get inside." Rick whispered, backing up when Daryl stands up, taking Carol in his arms.

"Night, Rick." Daryl says quietly, trying not to wake Carol up as he takes her inside and to her bedroom. As he laid her on the bed and curled behind her as he had been doing when he had actually slept inside the house, an almost silent "Love you, Carol," was whispered from Daryl. He closed his eyes and fell into what was possibly the most peaceful sleep he had gotten in the longest time.


End file.
